Never Let You Fall
by Katrinea
Summary: 100 Prompts #38: Nightmare. Desmond is having bad dreams, keeping both himself and Shaun awake. They have an argument about it, leading -inevitably- to different kinds of night-time activities. Shaun x Desmond. Lemon/fluff.


Shaun's life had been full of twists and turns ever since the day he had first begun poking around the Templars, like an uncontrollable rollercoaster that he didn't quite remember willingly boarding. There had been near death experiences too numerous to count, and painful incidents that had pushed him to the very limits of his physical and mental capacities (and more often than not, beyond them). But there had also been the high points; meeting Rebecca and Lucy, becoming one of the first to be actively recruited into the assassins, and then, the moment that he first met Desmond… That bastard. That gorgeous, idiotic bastard who had somehow managed to turn his life more upside down than it already was.

And even now he'd gotten used to the most recent, and possibly most surprising, twist in the drama story that was his life, he still hadn't quite gotten used to sharing the warehouse beds with the person who was causing all this uproar (the beds being uncomfortable at the best of times, nevermind when you had to share with a squirming, overgrown assassin with the manners and grace of a poorly trained elephant).

Nevertheless the irritating man somehow consistently managed to work his way into Shaun's bed and, though he would never admit it, had also made a considerable dent in the tomb of his heart. But the real problem was that, even with everything else he had managed to adjust to, he would still never get used to Desmond's nightmares.

It happened almost every night now, the tossing and turning in his sleep. The way his fists clenched in the bed sheets and his eyelids screwed shut against some hidden pain, some recalled reminiscence that crept into his mind. And then when Shaun would eventually give up on feigning ignorant sleep and rouse him from his stupor, the way he would awake and pout and refuse to admit that there was anything wrong, despite the sheen of his damp forehead and the heavy panting of his breath against Shaun's skin.

He was sick of being awoken by Desmond muttering, tossing and turning in his sleep. Sick of the lies and excuses that his lover fobbed him off on when questioned about his night terrors. Sick of the days when Desmond scraped by with dark rings under his eyes, yawning and falling asleep the minute he stumbled lethargically from the animus.

He was sick and tired of it, and it wasn't just because Desmond yawned sleepily when Shaun pressed his mouth against the smooth skin of his neck, shrugging him off when the historian made advances to slip his hands under the soft material of his shirt, protesting that he was too tired, and Desmond was NEVER too tired, not to spend some quality time with Shaun anyway. In fact, it was unusual for him not to be the one initiating it, and there was only so much Shaun could take of this worn out, dreary Desmond that was so different from his usual lively (albeit stupid) self.

And then one night he decided that he'd had enough. Lying in bed next to the squirming assassin who had insisted in climbing in next to him despite the lethargy imposed dry spell that they'd been experiencing of late. He'd just been on the cusp of dropping off to sleep, his mind finally shutting down after what had been another long, trying day in the life of the renegade assassins. And just as he was slipping off into a state of blissful unconsciousness he felt a sharp pain in his leg as Desmond's flailing foot connected with his shin. Cursing softly he opened his eyes, his frown fading somewhat when he saw the expression on the younger man's face. Contorted as though in pain, his brows furrowed, eyes screwed tight shut, sharp front teeth protruding from between his lips in what was almost a snarl. His hands were curled into fists in the blankets as he twisted his body from side to side restlessly, the sheets winding around him as he moved, pulling away from Shaun and leaving him exposed to the cold air. And laying there, the cold wrapping round his skin, he decided that he couldn't take this anymore.

"Desmond…" He whispered gently, provoking no visible response in the dense assassin. Deciding more aggressive action would be required; he prodded him sharply in the side and hissed, louder this time, "Desmond! Wake up!"

The effect wasn't quite what Shaun had anticipated. Desmond's eyes snapped open as though he had awoken from a trance, pupils contracting to a pinpoint as consciousness returned. In an instant Shaun found himself thrown on his back, the young assassin leaning over him, panting heavily as though he'd been out climbing buildings again. His strong hands grasped Shaun's wrists hard enough to bruise, and the historian's heart almost stopped at the look on his face, the fright of awakening replaced by sheer panic, less the look of a warrior and more of a scared child. He knew that in that moment Desmond was far from the cosy bed, somewhere in the slew of battle with the scent of death hanging in the air and his hands stained crimson.

"Desmond… It's ok, it's me." He murmured softly, waiting for the assassin's reality to sort itself out, for the bleeding of time to start to clot.

"Fucking hell Shaun!" Desmond exhaled sharply, gasping for air as though he was drowning. "Do you want me to kill you?" The grip on his wrists loosened as Desmond regained control of his breathing, his muscles relaxing despite the adrenaline still drumming through his body from his heavily fight weighted fight-or-flight instinct. "You know better than to wake me up like that."

"You were doing it again." Shaun murmured, barely fazed by the fact that Desmond's unfeasibly strong hands could've just as easily ended up around his neck instead of his wrists. The assassin fell quiet at his remark, his face marked with silent brooding. Shaun pressed on, "The nightmares… they're getting worse aren't they?"

"It's none of your concern." Desmond cut him off sharply as he released his wrists, sitting back a little and turning his eyes away from Shaun's.

"Bullshit it isn't!" Shaun snapped back, shifting his body up onto his elbows. "I'm the one who has to deal with your tossing and turning every night."_ And that pained look on your face…_ He thought silently to himself.

"It's nothing." Desmond muttered stubbornly, still refusing to meet Shaun's gaze. Shaun bristled beneath him, a sudden anger gripping his body. He pushed up against the man pressing down on him, flipping Desmond over with a speed that surprised the assassin, legs straddling his waist, hands gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise, slender fingers digging into his skin as he pinned him, their positions suddenly reversed.

"Stop it, just stop it." Shaun growled, pressing Desmond into the bed below him. "Now you know I usually enjoy having you squirming and moaning in my bed but this is ridiculous. I've had enough." Desmond stared back from beneath him, a dreadful weariness enveloping his usually bright irises. Shaun questioned him with a look of exasperated despair upon his face. "What is it Desmond? What is it that is so bad that it keeps you awake at night? What is so terrible that you cannot tell me about it? You're always so bloody keen to share everything with me, so why can't you just tell me about this!" He dug his fingers into the assassins shoulders and gave him a little shake as he spoke, keeping his body pinned down with his legs.

"Mm, I love it when you're rough." Desmond purred, his lips curling at the sides in a wicked grin, his words laced with a coarse tone that he knew would go straight to Shaun's groin.

"Don't you dare try to deflect." He hissed back, trying to ignore the feeling of Desmond's blood beating through the veins and arteries beneath his skin with the rise and fall of his chest. His own heart was beginning to race in time with the other man's. "Either you fess up about these ridiculous nightmares or you can find somewhere else to sleep." Desmond blinked at him, the smirk wiped clean from his face at the ultimatum, the look on Shaun's face telling him that the older man was totally serious about kicking him out.

"Shaun…" He murmured, what little light there was seeping into the room shining despairingly in his eyes. "I…"

"Just cut out the macho bullshit and tell me." Shaun cut him off, giving his shoulders another little shake as he spoke desperately. Desmond went silent again, a sombre look coming over his face as he sighed and made to sit up, shrugging off Shaun's grasp in defeat.

"Fine…" He sulked, pouting like a stubborn child bent to do another's will. He placed his hands against the bare skin of Shaun's chest and gently pushed the Brit off of him, struggling himself into a sitting position as he did so. He sat cross legged in silence for a few moments, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as though he was working out a muscle pain. Sitting there in the dark, one side of his face lit by the moonlight that crept its way into the sanctuary through the slices of window uncovered by curtain, he just looked so vulnerable and defeated that Shaun almost felt guilty at pushing him on the matter.

The assassin ran his hands through his dark hair as he finally spoke.

"I've been having these dreams, ever since I was at Abstergo, since the first time I used the animus, before we even met…" He paused for a moment, turning his gaze away from Shaun, towards the window where the light source flickered faintly.

"Is it the bleeding effect?" Shaun had expected something like this. There was no way someone could use the animus for a prolonged period of time and not experience some kind of psychological disturbance.

"Probably... I'm not sure." Desmond turned back to face his lover. "All I know is that they're getting worse. More intense, more… surreal." He paused again as he bit his lip and Shaun sighed silently.

"Go on…" He wasn't used to having to encourage Desmond to talk, the young assassin was usually the one who poked and prodded Shaun into deep discussions about feelings and other very non-masculine things. Desmond played with his hands in his lap as he spoke again.

"Sometimes it's just like I'm back there, fighting, killing… watching people I love die." A grimace of some remembered pain, a vision of the snapping of the necks of Ezio's family, flashed across his face. "But those I can almost cope with, they're just memories of the past, from another life, the remnants of Altaïr and Ezio that flow through my veins. Moments I've lived and relived. But they're not the worst, and they're not the ones I've been experiencing recently."

Shaun waited patiently for him to go on. A visible shiver passed through Desmond's body as he spoke, neither of them quite sure if it was from the cold or something else.

"It's the end of all things. I dream of it, Shaun. Dream that I'm standing high above the Earth, towering over a vast, sprawling city that I cannot recognise. It's somewhere familiar, a citadel tower or a church spire, just upon the brink of dawn and the whole world is still covered in darkness. I'm looking out over the ocean, and something stirs far away on the horizon, a blaze of light illuminating the clouds that line the border between sea and sky. And like a flash of lightning, I see the sun rising…"

Desmond took a breath, he was just getting started and Shaun was content to sit back and let him run with it until he tired himself out. He continued.

"The sight should fill me with warmth, but instead a sick feeling of foreboding starts to grow within me. But I can't look away or close my eyes against the light, and suddenly it bursts from the clouds, peeling away the darkness with brilliant orange, the colours of dawn and life. And I feel an overwhelming urge to move, to leave, to run away but I cannot. My legs will not move. An unfamiliar feeling now spreads through my veins; vertigo, sickness, a terrible fear of my height creeps over me. I feel as though I am falling but at the same time I cannot move." Desmond paused and shook his head from side to side, screwing his eyes shut again before continuing.

"I watch the brightness take over the world, and the sickness grows as the warm colours turn deep red, flooding the land below me with bloody fire. The light turns to flames, burning heat all around me, and I already know it's too late to run." He lifted his head again to meet Shaun's eyes and the historian was taken aback by the confusion and pain burning in those dark orbs. "And then I fall… plunging into the fires as they consume my world. And in the free fall I think of all the things I've loved, and all the things I've lost... Then I wake up next to you, and hope that it was just a dream, but I know that somehow it isn't. It's almost like... I'm seeing the future instead of the past, but there is nothing but death there." He scowled slightly at Shaun as he continued, speaking slowly, his voice edged with something unusual, something like distress.

"And yes… the dreams are affecting me, because for the first time in my life I'm scared. Shaun, I'm so fucking scared. I never used to be because I never had anything to lose, but now I have this life… I have a cause, a reason to live. And I have friends, a brotherhood… and you." He trailed off there, seeming to relax into the bed as though a great weight had just been lifted from his chest.

Shaun had to resist the urge to gawp like a fish at the man who had just finished pouring out his deepest fears to him. Just when he thought the American had run out of surprises for him he was proven wrong again. For once the sarky Brit was lost for words and Desmond seemed to know it. He shifted his position on the bed until he was leaning over and further in towards Shaun.

"Everything must end, I know that." He murmured softly, reaching out to brush stray hairs behind Shaun's ear. "One day I will fall… but I just want to be there with you, at the end of everything."

Shaun swallowed hard as he tried to maintain his mask of composure. He didn't understand quite why his heart was racing in his chest at Desmond's words, nor how could Desmond be so goddamn sexy when he was acting like an soppy girl. Maybe it was because he'd never really known how it felt to be cared about so deeply until he met the young American, maybe it was because the irresponsible assassin was constantly breaking him down, piece by piece crumbling his walls, bringing them closer in more than just a physical sense.

Maybe it was because he understood the meaning in Desmond's words, the three lyrics, the admission that would just shatter everything.

"Stupid…" He muttered, his voice low in the still silence of the room. He leaned in closer to Desmond, until he could feel the assassin's warm breath ghost his face; see his dark irises burning behind thick eyelashes. "What makes you think I'll ever let you fall?"

Shaun barely had time to react before their lips collided, the hand that had been caressing his hair slipping behind his head, cupping the back of the historian's neck and pulling his mouth hard against Desmond's, lips and teeth colliding in a frenzied imitation of a kiss. The younger male crashed his lips against his in passion and demand, flicking out a tongue to taste his lips. He responded eagerly, meeting the other in a fevered kiss that tasted of lust and need. Desmond moaned against his mouth as Shaun deepened the kiss, tasting the heat of the assassin as he invaded his mouth with gentle caresses.

Desmond pushed against his lover, pressing his body back down onto the bed sheets, grasping at his wrists, trapping him against the bed as he had done instinctively when he had awoken earlier. He ran his tongue along the bare skin of Shaun's neck, kissing and biting and tasting until he began to feel soft sounds vibrating against his lips, the normally stoic man trying and failing to stifle the quiet moans that escaped his lips when Desmond scraped his teeth across the sensitive skin. He rolled his hips down into the man pressed below him, and (biting his lip to suppress a moan) Shaun was suddenly very aware of the hard arousal pressed against his own.

"What are you doing?" He murmured, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke, not giving the younger man the satisfaction of knowing how wound up he was making him.

"You woke me up." Desmond hummed against his skin, rubbing the pad of his thumb gently against his wrist. "Got me excited, got my blood pumping. I'll never get back to sleep now." He began to lay a trail of rough kisses from collarbone to ear, still holding the older man down by his wrists, feeling the beat of his blood underneath his skin. "Unless you wear me out again." Desmond practically purred into Shaun's ear, biting down gently on his earlobe in a way he knew would send shivers down the Brit's spine. Shaun's retort was lost in a strangled gasp as he felt those hips thrust against his own, sparks shooting up his body to light the pleasure centres of his brain like fireworks.

"Fuck…" He muttered, determined to give as good as he was getting. In one swift movement he flipped their positions so that he was the one straddling Desmond, claiming his mouth in a bruising kiss as he ground their hips together, taking control, relishing the way the young assassin squirmed beneath him, panting and moaning as their lips and tongues met in a wet, hot embrace. He turned his attention to Desmond's body, biting and licking a way along his collarbone and down to his chest, running his hands along his sides and losing himself in the feeling of rippling muscles and hot skin.

"Nngh… Don't tease me Shaun." Desmond almost whimpered as the historian pressed soft, fleeting kisses to the hollow of his collarbones, rubbing his hand teasingly against the thin cloth that covered the swell of his crotch. He grabbed Shaun's head, pulling his face down to within an inch of his own, speaking in a harsh whisper. "I want you to fuck me." His voice was rough and raw in Shaun's ear, his tone practically dripping with need as he ground up into the touch.

"Demanding little slut." Shaun growled back at the predatory look on the assassin's face, reminding him that he was the one in charge as he moved to twist his nipple harshly between damp fingers, enjoying the way that Desmond arched his back against the bed, into the touch, as he moaned with raw lust and pleasure. "Why don't we put that smart mouth of yours to good use first, eh pet?" He purred as he sucked the soft flesh of Desmond's earlobe in between his teeth.

"Mmm." Desmond hummed low in his throat, the assassin barely choking back the groan that rose within him, escaping his lips as he felt sharp teeth scrape his skin. "I thought you'd never ask."

Moments later he was slipping strong fingers under the waistband of Shaun's soft pyjama trousers, his mouth pressing harsh kisses to the historian's chest before moving lower, tongue flicking over the defined muscles of his stomach, teeth scraping the outlines of his hipbones until he could feel the older man shudder with pleasure. He tugged at the waistband of Shaun's underwear, pulling them down to free his aching flesh to the cold air of the night.

Shaun had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to stifle a cry as he felt Desmond's hot mouth envelop his manhood, fingers clenching into fists in the bed sheets as his skin trembled. He hummed softly as he felt the assassin's wet tongue run across the underside of his cock, his eyelids falling to half-mast as Desmond took him further into his hot, wet mouth.

"Aah." He purred, gazing languidly at the assassin through half lidded eyes, determined to keep up his contemptuous front. "You're always so eager to please eh Desmond? Just like a good little whore." The American narrowed his eyes in a glare at he stared up at Shaun, swallowing thickly and grinning around Shaun's length as he watched the historian's eyes widen and mouth fall open in a gasp of mingled pleasure and surprise. Shaun lost himself in a moan as he felt the sensitive head of his member push up against the back of Desmond's throat, moving his hands to fist in Desmond's short hair as he built up a steady rhythm, feeling the assassin's throat constrict around his sensitive tip, feeling rather than hearing the soft gagging noises he made every time Shaun pushed up against the back of his throat. The feel of the assassin's gag reflex made Shaun growl with barely concealed pleasure and he had to fight against the urge to thrust deeper into the younger man's mouth. He purred as he ran his long fingers through Desmond's short hair, watching hazily as he bobbed his head, taking him deeper and deeper into this mouth every time, those dark eyes fixed firmly on Shaun's own as he revelled in the hot feeling of the historian's hard flesh sliding across his tongue. The sight of Desmond smirking away against his cock with those pouty, abused lips was suddenly too much for Shaun to take, and he decided to give him what he wanted.

Shaun tightened his grasp on Desmond's hair and gave him a sharp tug, pulling his head upwards as he gasped and swore in pain and surprise. Both his annoyance and his frown were short lived however as he soon found himself pressed down against the bed again, unable to fight the urge to buck up into Shaun's touch as he swiftly divested him of his remaining clothing. He closed his eyes as Shaun rummaged in the drawer of the bedside table, his hand re-emerging in victory with a small, well used bottle clutched between his fingers. Desmond's eyes flicked open at the sound of the drawer closing, smiling triumphantly at the sight of his lover leaning over him. He whined softly as Shaun dodged his advances to capture the historian's lips, confusion furrowing his brows until he was rolled over to lie face down on the bed, his face pushed into the pillow, legs spread wide and knees bent just enough so that his hips were raised up off of the bed. His breath caught in his throat in anticipation as he realised what the historian had in mind.

Shaun ran the pads of his fingers along the skin of Desmond's thighs, smirking at the way his skin shuddered at his touch as the assassin struggled to resist the teasing sensations.

"Shaun…" Desmond moaned pleadingly, biting down hard on his lip as those fingers slipped slowly down in between his legs. Warm breath ghosted his ear and he could feel Shaun's body burning up against the skin of his back as he leant over him, sharp teeth nipping at his neck.

"C'mon pet," Shaun purred against the novice assassin's burnished skin as he popped open the cap of the bottle, removing his fingers just long enough to coat them sufficiently with lubricant. "I want to hear you beg me for it."

"Please, Shaun…" Desmond moaned a little too theatrically, knowing that Shaun was enjoying this little power play just as much as he was. "I want you to - Ah!" He gasped in pleasure and surprise as he felt one long finger press inside of him, his voice lost for a moment as he tried to adjust to the familiar burn of the intrusion.

"What was that?" Shaun murmured teasingly, his voice hoarse and heady in Desmond's ear. "Keep going."

"More." Desmond panted, turning his head towards his partner, struggling to control his breathing as he watched those brown eyes fixed so intently on his own. "I want more Shaun, I need more."

"Slut." Shaun hissed as he nipped at his neck. Desmond's eyes slipped shut as Shaun added a second finger. "You just love this don't you? You just can't wait to get my cock inside you." He taunted the assassin as he shifted his fingers inside of him, pushing in deeper and coaxing his tight muscles open.

"Ah!" The assassin gasped, fisting his hands tightly in the pillow at the feeling of Shaun flexing his fingers inside of him. "Yeah. I just – oh! – need to feel you inside me now, before I lose my mind." Shaun swallowed hard, losing his fight against the urge to just take Desmond right then without further preparation, not that he really needed much more at this point anyway.

"So fucking hot." He muttered, his own eyes slipping shut as his third slick finger slid in, drawing husky gasps from the man pinned beneath him.

"Fuck, Shaun, I can't take it any longer!" Desmond growled hoarsely. The feeling of Shaun's fingers inside of him was the most unbearable tease, his body clamouring for something bigger, thicker, something that moved hard and fast and hit that spot that made stars shoot across his vision. "I _need_ you!"

"Gods." Shaun lost the battle against his own body. As much as he enjoyed teasing the novice he much preferred fucking him into the bed and he could never withstand much persuasion from him on the matter. Desmond let out a soft gasp as the pleasant pressure of Shaun's fingers was removed, but he didn't even think to complain in anticipation of what would come next. One click of the bottle cap later and those warm hands were sliding in between his legs, pushing them apart, Desmond moaning in anticipation as he felt something slick and warm press against his entrance. Shaun was leaning fully over him now, feeling every inch of his warm back beneath his skin and the rapid flutter of his own heart against his ribcage.

"Remind me what you want me to do to you." Shaun whispered into Desmond's ear as he ground against his ass, unable to resist the urge to carry the teasing on for just a little bit longer. It took the assassin a moment to catch his breath, turning to glare at his partner as he growled,

"Just shut up and _fuck me_."

Shaun smirked back at him and he was more than happy to oblige. Pushing his head past the tight muscles he sheathed himself fully in Desmond's tight warmth with one harsh thrust. Desmond gasped in pain and _writhed _beneath him, his cries smothered as he buried them in the pillow that he was still grasping so tightly.

"Aah!" Shaun's eyes threatened to roll back in his head at the sensation, it had been a while since they'd last had sex and if possible Desmond felt tighter than usual from neglect. "Fuck, Desmond. So tight…" He panted, trying to catch his breath as he braced himself against Desmond's back. His fingers dug into the novice's shoulder hard enough to leave bruises that neither of them cared about, loving the feeling of the hard muscles of the assassin's back pressed against the bare skin of his chest almost as much as the almost unbearably tight heat that sheathed him as Desmond's insides wrapped eagerly around his cock.

"Shit…" Desmond panted heavily, the feeling of Shaun inside of him, filling him up but not doing anything else, not moving was driving him insane. "Shaun, fucking fuck me!"

"Heh," Shaun smirked as he rolled his hips forward into Desmond's heat. "Always so articulate aren't you?" He struggled to keep his voice steady as he felt Desmond moan and writhe beneath him, struggled against total lack of abandon and loss of composure. "I suppose it's hard to think straight…" He pulled nearly all of the way out before thrusting back in more harshly, reaching deeper than before, "- with my cock so deep inside of you."

Desmond choked out a moaning gasp that was half pain and half pleasure, the two sensations mixing to create a perfect heat in the pit of his stomach as Shaun hit that spot deep inside of him and he couldn't even think enough to form an adequate retort. Bracing himself against the bed with one hand so not to put too much of his weight on Desmond, Shaun slid a hand underneath the assassins taut body to grasp firmly at his hip, pulling him back and up into his motions so that the thrusts went deeper still. Desmond turned his head, trying to catch his lips but Shaun hovered teasingly just out of reach. Desmond's brown eyes were dark and bottomless and his body shook as Shaun thrust roughly into him, frantic thrusts striking the spot inside of him that made his skin convulse and burn as fire shot through his body, red hot pleasure sparking through his veins. Ezio's ancestor moaned wantonly into his mouth as Shaun caught his lips in a kiss that was almost violent, Shaun picking up the pace in response to the vibrations of the shameless moans that shot fire through his veins.

Wound up as tight as he was, it didn't take long for Desmond to reach the breaking point, especially when Shaun slid his hand round to fist his cock, slick fingers curling around his length and pumping him to the rhythm of his thrusts. It didn't take long for his supernova to explode, fuelled by the filthy things that Shaun was whispering in his ear as sharp teeth nipped against his skin, hot pleasure shooting through his veins, setting his skin on fire with the tingle of intense, orgasmic passion.

His eyes snapped tight shut as he came, hard and warm over Shaun's hand. His mind swam as the hot burn of his orgasm ripped through his veins and he half moaned, half screamed something only vaguely recognisable as Shaun's name muddled in amongst a stream of curse words. Shaun was relentless, continuing to move inside of the assassin even as he spilled his white hot liquid over his hand, not letting up at all even as he heard Desmond scream his name, tightening around him so excruciatingly that he could barely contain his own orgasm. He kept moving, kept fucking him with the same intensity as he came, as he felt Desmond's body tremble as all the tension in his muscles drained away. And in the hot, heady, unbearable tightness of Desmond's body he found his own release, snapping his hips forward in way that made Desmond moan louder than before in the sensitive afterglow of his orgasm. He shuddered violently as he came, pushing in even harder than before, trying to bury himself as deep inside of the assassin as he could as if to stake his claim deep within the warm body. Desmond felt his overly sensitive insides burn with the hot sensation of Shaun's seed and he couldn't help but moan appreciatively at the feeling of being filled up completely by his lover. Shaun breathed out deeply as he relaxed his taut body onto Desmond, only vaguely aware that he was still muttering the assassins name as the fog in his head started to clear.

"Get off of me you big lump." Desmond panted, the heavy weight of Shaun's body on his quickly becoming uncomfortable. Shaun merely grunted, his mind too frazzled to form a retort as he forced his aching body to move just enough to roll himself over, off of the assassin's back and over onto the cool sheets of the bed. Lying on his back with his chest rising and falling rapidly, the chemical endorphins burned through his blood and started to dissipate, being replaced too quickly for his liking with a heavy lethargy that also seemed to have gripped Desmond who was still sprawled face down on the bed, his eyelids drooping as he tried to control his racing heartbeat.

It was Desmond who made attempts to move first, just as Shaun's own eyelids were starting to droop and he was tempted by the prospect of the sleep that had been so rudely taken from him by Desmond's earlier thrashings around. He pulled himself up onto one elbow, grimacing slightly at the dull pain that crept up his spine from the historian's less than tender treatment. Hovering over Shaun's head he regarded him curiously with those deep brown eyes, leaning down slowly to meet his lips in the most gentle altercation that the two of them had exchanged that night. Shaun's eyelids fluttered softly as he opened his mouth to meet Desmond. The assassin slid a rough skinned hand round to caress the curve of Shaun's jaw as the kiss deepened, soft and slow in the hazy warmth that lingered in the room in the wake of everything that had happened that night.

"Shaun…" Desmond spoke softly against his lips as they parted slightly, his voice low and heavy with conviction. "I love you."

Shaun's eyes flicked open to meet with the dark, warm depths of the brown eyes that just stared back at him curiously.

"Stupid…" Shaun muttered in response, half hoping that Desmond hadn't felt the beat that his heart had just skipped. "Go to sleep." He felt the assassin smile against his mouth and knew that there was no need for him to speak the words aloud, because the irritating bastard that was Desmond Miles already had him figured, inside and out.

So when they lay down to sleep together, the world had somehow been set right again, with Desmond pouting until Shaun gave into letting him cuddle up in his arms in a very emasculating manner. And as the assassin's steady breathing became slower and fell into time with his own, Shaun knew that the nightmares would be kept at bay, at least for the time being. As he felt himself drift off to the warm darkness of sleep in the embrace of the other man, he couldn't help but think that love, being whatever it may be, was perhaps more intriguing than he had first thought.

And through the cold darkness of the night they both slept dreamlessly, right through till the dawn, and a small smile curled upon Desmond's lips as he slept because, after all, he knew that he had nothing to fear now.

Because he had definitely felt that missed beat.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Fluff/smut will be the death of me. That and DesmondxShaun. As usual, I hope you enjoyed this and reviews would be appreciated :3_


End file.
